


Only One Month

by altrojunkie



Category: Boruto, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-09-01 23:04:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16774714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altrojunkie/pseuds/altrojunkie
Summary: Boruto finally gets his chance to win over Sarada's heart within one month.





	1. Soft and Softer

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a lovely friend and realized I could post it here too. Enjoy!

“I said _no_ , Boruto. You ever heard that word before?” Sarada turns a page of her textbook over, not looking up to the boy in front of her. He taps his empty paper cup on the desk they’re sitting at. Boruto clicks his tongue and rests his cheek on his right hand, elbow on the table, blue eyes resting on her.

“You haven’t even considered it, you know?”

“I don’t have to.” She turns another page over. “It’s ridiculous and we both know it.” He rolls his eyes and tilts his head to the other side, watches her read the textbook, as if the words were more interesting than him.

“I am not going to go out with you. I am not.” When he doesn’t say anything, Sarada finally jerks her head up and stares at him. “Are you deaf,” she asks. “Or did I stutter?”

“No, no. I heard you. I just chose to have a little bit of amnesia right then and there.” She purses her lips and doesn’t say anything, but before she can drop her eyes back onto her book, he speaks up again.

“Come on, Sarada, give me a chance,” he whispers now with a lower voice and pleading eyes. This change in tone and expression on his face makes her go still. “One chance. Only one.” Her face doesn’t change, but on the inside she is listening to him. He doesn’t use this kind of voice often with anyone at all. She’s only heard it once before, when Boruto begged her not to rat him out to his parents because he had cheated during an exam. This is the Boruto who lets his façade drop and show his true emotions and vulnerability.

“Why are you so desperate to go out with me anyway,” she retorts. Boruto looks taken aback at first, then turns his eyes on his hands on the table.

With a quiet, soft voice he says, “You know why. You know the reason. You’ve always known, you just never really cared for it.” That much is true, Sarada has to admit. In front of her, Boruto looks small even though he is physically bigger than her.

“You make me sound heartless, Boruto.”

“Oh, no, you’re not. You’re just…a bit distant maybe.” The softness in his voice is now gone, back is his bravado. She recognizes this as his normal self, the mask he shows everyone around him because it’s easy. Not many people ever see his other sides. Being childhood friends though, Sarada knows him better than most people do. It’s not that he is a cold person and wants to appear distant and cold all the time, but he doesn’t like showing how desperate he may be for certain things to happen. Being vulnerable does not come easy to Boruto.

Sarada recalls the first time ever that he asked her out. They were both thirteen, young and inexperienced when he clumsily leaned over to her and asked her if she wanted to go have dinner with him. That the corners of his mouth were red from the tomato sauce he had with his pasta for lunch took away from seriousness of his proposal. Since it had been the first time, Sarada had been dumbfounded, embarrassed even, but she hadn’t taken it seriously one bit. Back then, Boruto liked to flirt with all the girls, she wasn’t special.

But it didn’t stay with one proposal. Over the years, Boruto had managed to ask her out over and over again. As they grew older, the boy had matured and so did his behavior. When he’d asked her to prom, he’d blushed a deep red, scratching the back of his head and avoiding her eyes. It was that moment Sarada knew her childhood friend would like to be more than just that.

She hadn’t had it in her heart to tell him outright that she didn’t return his feelings. All too well did she know he may not remain her friend if she did so. People were like that. So she had made a mental note to try and spend less time with him. Perhaps distance would make Boruto change his mind and the two of them could go back to being friends without any awkward romance in the picture.  
That plan did not work for more than a week. He called her, demanding to know why’d she suddenly ghosted him.

 _You asked me to prom and I rejected you,_ she said.

 _Yeah, I remember. So?,_ he’d ask.

 _I was trying to give you distance to recollect yourself,_ Sarada would add carefully. She was always careful not to insinuate Boruto was hurt or vulnerable. Nothing could make him close up faster than this.

 _You’ve rejected me so many times before,_ he’d say, _and I’ve never had to recollect myself. What do you think was different this time?_

 _Everything,_ Sarada would think but not speak out loud.

This instance of an honest display of vulnerability did not return until now.

Sarada watches her friend over the rims of her glasses, her eyes shrewd but not cold. Over the years, he’d grown from a handsome boy into a charming young man, just like she had turned into a young woman, too. His face always gets him into the good graces of the women around him, regularly dating other classmates for a few weeks at a time. Nothing serious, ever, and people assume he has commitment issues.

Sarada doesn’t think he has commitment issues, but she cannot refute other people’s opinions openly. It’d give too much of Boruto away and she has no right to do that.

It’s her assumption that Boruto just may get tired of her after a few weeks and that he had shown his softer self to her just moments prior that make her decide what to answer him.

“I’ll think about it.”

Boruto’s face lights up as if sunlight just hit his face.  
“Are you for real? You’ll think about it?” The surprise in his voice could have been shameful if he wouldn’t look so happy.

“I can’t believe I am saying this, Boruto,” Sarada says as she packs her textbooks together – she needed to get to her next class – “But yes, I am going to think about it.” He jumps up from his chair, the empty coffee cup forgotten on the wooden table.

“What do I have to do to convince you,” he asks her, “I don’t want to fuck my chance up.” Sarada smiles at his eager nature to hide the twinge of pain. She doesn’t return his feelings and leading him on is a terrible idea, but maybe he’d lose interest in her like this.

“Pick me up at 8 tonight. We’ll go for dinner at a place of my choosing.”

“You won’t regret it,” he tells her, beaming before leaving the study room with a giant smile on his face.

 _Yeah, I really doubt that_ , Sarada thinks to herself as she collects her things.

* * *

Boruto tugs at the collar of his shirt as he waits for Sarada to come down to meet him. He took a shower as soon as he came home to prepare for the date, even washed between his toes to make sure he’d smell as pleasant as he could. Hopefully his aftershave isn’t unappealing to her. He can’t recall her ever saying anything about it, regardless if he wore it with her around or not. Boruto vaguely recalls one of his exes telling him that he was smelling nice, but Sarada isn’t an ex.

The door opens and Sarada steps out, wearing a deep red coat over a black satin dress. _Lovely_ , Boruto thinks. Black always makes a stark contrast to her skin, but the red lets the color of her skin stand out, a pale rose color. She isn’t suntanned like him. One of the many ways in which they are different.

“Hey,” she greets him with a smile. Her lips are coated in something shimmering, lip gloss maybe? “Hey,” he answers and holds the door of his car open for her. If she’s wearing lip gloss tonight it means she doesn’t plan to kiss him. No girl would put on lip gloss if she was planning to kiss her date.

Boruto’s stomach feels heavy as he slides into the car on the other side behind the steering wheel. It’s only a date, just like he asked her in the study room, so of course she wouldn’t want to kiss him. He tried to talk himself out of any expectations at home as he got ready, but he is disappointed nonetheless. He thinks about other guys Sarada may have gone out with and if she kissed them on the first date. Is he really so undesirable that even a kiss would be too much for her?

“You smell really nice,” Sarada says as he backs the car onto the street and starts driving. “Did you put the aftershave on for me?” Her voice is quiet, but heat crawls up Boruto’s neck anyway.

“I’ve worn it before. You know, when we’d hang out,” he answers her, then swallows even though his mouth is dry.

“Oh, so it’s nothing special?”

“N-No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just that I’ve worn it before around you, ya know? So I didn’t think you’d notice since you’ve never noticed before.”

“I have noticed it, though. I just never commented on it because I thought you just came back from a date with a girlfriend.” She flashes him a smile. “You should wear aftershave like this more often. You really do smell nice.”

His heart skips a beat at that.

“Hey, turn on the stereo. I want to know what kind of music you listen to in here.”

The rest of the ride Sarada doesn’t compliment him again, not on his appearance, his smell or anything else really. The only thing coming close to a compliment was when she said his CD collection was decent.  
She gives him instruction on where to drive and soon Boruto understands she plans to go to a place with Japanese and Korean food. The restaurant is new in town, Boruto hasn’t had an opportunity to visit it yet.

He wonders if Sarada went there alone or with her friends. _A date perhaps?_

A waitress with dark hair and red lipstick guides them to a table for two in the back, all complete with a candle in the middle. It makes his hands sweaty, knowing they are essentially having dinner over candlelight. This is serious shit and if he fucks up, he won’t get a second chance. That was the deal. God, he wants this to work out.

They open their menus to take a look, but he can hardly concentrate on what’s written inside. Sarada’s face is lit up by the candle light, her smooth skin glowing, her face framed by dark hair. She looks up, catching him staring at her and before she can say anything about it, he starts talking about the menu.

“I think I am going to get a steak with potatoes and a red wine sauce. You?”

“Uh, I think I’ll have the Alfredo pasta. You know I love pasta.”

Boruto grins at her, remembering a vivid part of their childhood. “Yeah, I do remember! Back then you ate the pasta with ketchup most of the time.”

“I had an exquisite taste and you know it,” she retorts before sticking out her tongue.

“Yeah, I know you did. Still do.” His throat feels dry and he took a small sip of his water, clearing his throat with it.

“So how is this going to work,” she asks Boruto as she closes her menu. When he only furrows his eyebrows in confusion she continues, “With you and me, I mean. This dating thing. You said you wanted one chance, right?”

He nods, puts down the menu and folds his hands and leaning his face on them. Sarada used to sit like this in class, he remembers.

“Yeah, one chance is all I asked for.”

“So if I am miserable by the end of the night, that was that?”

“If…if you want that, yeah, I’d accept your decision. I don’t want to force you into anything. You should enjoy yourself if you can.”

When Sarada’s eyes grow shrewd, he tacks on. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to suggest something though.

“You see, one date is not a lot. The first date is normally a bit stiff and weird. Even if you know each other well. I think it’d be better if we’d prolong the dating timespan. I’d say, mh, a month. A month sounds good.”

“Boruto,” Sarada exclaimed with a shocked expression. “One month is more than just one chance. That’s, like, at least ten. Depending on how often we go out.”

 _Judging by the sound of that…_ , Boruto thought and his heartbeat speeds up. This sounds like she’s almost partial to his idea.

“If you are okay with all of this, if you want to give me this benefit of a doubt for a month, we could date for this one month and then – if you decide you don’t like me and dating me is a waste of your time – then you can dump me.”

 _Well, doesn’t this shut her up._ She looks almost baffled. This is a first, as far as Boruto is concerned.

“This is the one chance I’d like to get. I mean, if you don’t want to, we don’t have to. We’ll go back to being friends and I promise you, hearts crossed and all that, ya know, I will never bring this topic up again.” He leans back in expectation, hands shaking so badly he hides them under the table. He does not want her to see how badly this affects him, how much this all means to him.  
He’s well aware she knows about his feelings, obviously, but he is unsure she knows how deep they go. She’s only ever seen the surface, his emotions are like an iceberg.

“If I don’t want to anymore, I can dump you?”

“Yes, but I’d like to have the entire month to prove myself, please.”

“What about PDA? I am not going to tell everyone I am dating you if there’s a chance I’m going to just dump you in the end. And no sex either.”

This turn of the conversation successfully chokes him and he coughs to hide his blush. Boruto holds up his hands to show her he does not intent to fight her on this rule.

“No sex. I never would have expected that, would never disrespect you like this, no, no. Though…” As his voice trails off, she raises an eyebrow at him and immediately he knows he’s on thin ice. _Tread carefully._

“I would like to hold your hand. And…if you don’t think it’s creepy, I would like to kiss you at some point.” The longer he goes on talking, the softer his voice gets and he has to catch himself at the end there, clearing his throat. He didn’t want to open himself to her so quickly during the first date, because what if she is just going to dump him?

_God, please Sarada, don’t dump me. Please don’t dump me._

“Well,” she begins again, “What are we going to tell other people?”

“Do we need to tell them anything?”

“Ah, point proven. We won’t say anything then.”

“So, you’re…accepting it?”

Sarada flashes him a big, bright smile that makes her eyes turn into crescent moons. Heat hits Boruto’s cheek like a flame.

“Yes, I’m accepting it!”


	2. A First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first date!

The rest of the dinner goes over without any further disturbances or mentions of their deal. Sarada enjoys herself, listening to Boruto ramble about classes, friends, homework, his family.   
He’s lighthearted now that she has accepted him as her temporary boyfriend, all is well in his world. Sarada bites her tongue the happier he gets – it’s not that she is exactly lying to him, but she isn’t honest either.

She knows she just got Boruto’s hopes up, high enough to reach the sky if you’d put it figuratively. So all in all this would be nothing but a prolonged rejection, stretched out slowly over the course of a month.

Was she cruel for it? _Maybe_. But she couldn’t possibly reject him until they’d part ways one day. Gotta give the boy a chance to see that maybe she’s not as great as he believes her to be. If he’d lose interest, she wouldn’t have to reject him at the end of the month and all was good.  
  
_Yeah, as if that is going to happen._  
Her hand is on the white table cloth right next to his, the contrast between them softened through the candlelight; Boruto’s skin has always been darker than hers, no matter how much time she’d spent in the sun, but in the low candlelight the glow to his eyes and cheeks make him appear radiant, like a small sun.

Her own personal sun, in a way. Boruto can make the most mundane meetings and events enjoyable. This is a character trait Sarada wishes she could have inherited from her mother, but she is more like her father. Stoic, cool on the surface. Like a clear lake with frost at the edges.  
  
_You’re so stiff!_ He’d use to say as kids. _Loosen up._  
  
_You’re so childish, Boruto. Not everyone has the benefit of not having to take anything seriously,_ she’d reply.  
  
As Boruto calls the waitress over to pay their bill, Sarada realizes that he does take her seriously. Like any small mishap would make her take a beeline to the exit of the restaurant to leave him behind. He didn’t want to hear her when she’d offered him to split the bill – she has more than enough money from her parents – after all, he was the one who had asked her out to this date so he should be the one to pay. Anything else, so he said, would be disrespectful.

“You can make it up to me by allowing me to hold your hand on the way home.” He winks at her, puts on his jacket before helping Sarada into her own. Sarada laughs, he’s flirty now that the tension between them is gone, and she doesn’t mind.

She slips her hand into his, his skin is warm and there is a hint of sweat, too. Nervousness, she assumes, no matter how hard he tries to appear nonchalant and relaxed.

On their way to the car, he pulls her close to him, and Sarada only meets his gaze for a second, then drops her eyes on the path in front of them. Boruto had that serene happiness on his face, no cheeky teasing left to taint it, he couldn’t believe his own luck tonight. Their time together for this month is more than he’d hoped he’d get. His eyes had been filled with warmth to the brim, and guilt spikes up inside her.  
  
It will be more than just painful to disappoint him at the end of the four weeks.

* * *

  
As Boruto drives home after delivering Sarada to her doorstep, his mood is a constant high. It doesn’t matter she had eaten half of that garlic bread at the restaurant, clearly not in the mood to kiss him good night, or that she had looked away every time he had looked at her for more than a few seconds.

It doesn’t matter because he’d get to go out with her again. When they said goodbye to each other, he’d made sure to ask her about the next date and they’d agreed to go to the movies. A horror movie because of course, Sarada had read the novel the movie is based on. Boruto kept his thoughts to himself, but her decision had surprised him. Sarada loves romantic movies and novels.

In her childhood bedroom, she would have entire rows of books only about romance stories. He cannot recall her ever reading that many horror novels, but he’d let her have her way.  
  
Once he comes back to his dorm room, he gets a call from Shikadai.  
  
“Hey, how’d it go? Do I need to bring over the vodka?”  
Boruto laughs. “No, there’s no need for that. Sarada and I have our second date later this week.”  
First, _silence_. Then, hysterical laughter from the other end of the line. “She agreed to go out with you? She really did?”  
  
“Yes! Why do you sound so surprised?” Boruto asked with a scowl on his face. Shikadai’s laughter is borderline insulting. Is it really this surprising Sarada would want to go out with him on another date?

“Because, _sunny boy_ , she’s rejected you more times than I can count. It was honestly pathetic to watch you try time and time again,” Shikadai said with an edge to his voice. Shikadai is one of his only friends who really know just how deeply Boruto feels for Sarada.  
  
“Nice. Nothing you say to me tonight could bring me down though. The date went great, food was bomb and we held hands on our way back.” The tone in his voice is boastful.  
  
“Oh yeah,” Shikadai replies back coolly, “Did she kiss you goodnight?”  
  
“Well…” Boruto begins but his friend cuts him off mid-sentence. “Boruto, holding hands means very little and you know that. Don’t get your hopes up,” Shikadai reminds him.   
  
“I’m not saying you need to lick each other’s faces within the next week, but I know you.”  
  
“I know you’ll take every glance she throws you as a positive sign she’ll stay with you at the end of your deal with her. I know you will get your hopes up. And I also know if you get your hopes up and she’ll leave you – “ Shikadai has enough tact not to mention that he believes Sarada is only dating Boruto to make him lose his interest (not out of cruelty, Sarada is not a cruel person, but to make him finally lose his romantic interest in her), “ – you will be absolutely devastated.”  
  
_Well, if this isn’t a mood killer,_ Boruto thinks. The high he has been riding on comes crashing down and he looks at his left, free hand. The hand with which he’d held Sarada’s on their way home. Suddenly, the entire evening loses its sparkle, seems almost phony and Boruto’s throat closes up.  
  
“Later, Shikadai.”  
  
“Boruto –“

“Later!”  
  
He hangs up on his friend and throws his phone on the bed in anger. With a grunt he takes off his shirt, pushes off his pants and lies down on the bed, closing his eyes but he knows there will be no sleep for him tonight. What could have been a good night’s sleep, will now turn into anxiously recalling everything Sarada said to him over their shared meal.

It’s not in Boruto’s nature to rethink everything the people say around him or the things he says, but this is different. Sarada is different like that. The reality is that Shikadai is right. Boruto will try to do his hardest not to get his hopes up and he knows Sarada will not pick him, be with him, but is it really that bad to just dream about possibilities for a while? Even if they don’t have an actual chance of happening? Everyone else around him is allowed to fantasize, why can’t he?  
  
_You will be absolutely devastated._  
  
It takes him hours to fall asleep, Shikadai’s words still running loudly in his mind.  


* * *

Although Sarada doesn’t tell Chocho about her month-long trial with Boruto, her friend still comes running to her with an accusing expression on her face.

“I guess you talked to Shikadai,” Sarada says before Chocho can open her mouth to start screaming at her. Chocho has been telling Sarada to give Boruto a chance ‘for the sake of her own happiness’.

“How did you know?” Chocho puts her hands on her sides, hips tilting forward. Today, Chocho is wearing a dark dress with colored tights.  
  
“Because Boruto talks to Shikadai about everything. And I know Shikadai talks to you. I knew you knew about the deal the moment you came here,” Sarada replied, pushing her glasses up her nose. Chocho looks dumbfounded.  
  
“Deal? What deal?” she asks, voice lower now to protect their privacy amongst the other students.  
  
“Oh. Well, I guess Shikadai left that out.” Sarada clears her throat. “Boruto and I are going to try dating for a month. At the end of it, I can decide if I want to stay with him or not.”  
  
“Oh. My. God. Girl. _Girl.”_ She sits down next to her friend with glowing eyes, but Sarada cuts her off before she can start gossiping about Boruto.  
  
“I know, I know. It’s cruel of me to do that and get Boruto’s hopes up when I know damn well how he feels about me.” Sarada ends her sentence in a long and hard sigh.  
  
“Wait what,” Chocho says, confused at her words, “What do you mean? You’re dating him even though you don’t reciprocate his feelings?” Sarada winces at her friend’s true words.   
“So you’re telling me that you, knowing full well that Boruto Uzumaki worships the ground you’re walking on, have agreed to date him, despite also understanding that you do not return his feelings, only to get his hopes up and inevitably crushing them in the process?”  
  
“Yes,” Sarada whispers, head hanging low.  
  
“Damn. I didn’t take you for a heartless woman. But here you are, I have to admit; I am impressed.”  
  
“Chocho! This isn’t funny!” Sarada exclaimed.  
  
“I know it’s not!” Chocho lowers her voice again, now in a calming manner. “Please tell me you’re not going to kiss him. Poor boy won’t recover.”  
  
“It’s part of the plan,” she explains to her, “To at least kiss him once. I don’t mind doing it, don’t worry. But there will be no sex involved,“ Sarada tacks on at Chocho’s sharp inhale.  
  
“Just tell me you’ll be gentle about letting him down. He’s a softie.”  
  
Sarada laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ll try my best.”

* * *

  
Boruto comes into the cafeteria after Sarada and he had to text her during first period to save him a seat. He doesn’t think much whether she’ll sit by herself or surrounded by friends, but when their eyes meet across the room and he sees her sitting next to Chocho, Sumire and Inojin, his stomach still drops. Having her to himself is a selfish thought, yes, but he only has a month with her. Still, he isn’t going to keep her from their friends and this doesn’t make him lose his bravado.  
  
“Hey,” he greets everyone. Inojin doesn’t pay more attention than usual to him, but Chocho’s face is smug and Sarada’s cheeks are colored on a lovely pink shade. Of course, they all know about what happened last night.  
  
“Hey,” Sarada replies and Chocho casts her a meaningful glance. Inojin pretends not to notice the awkwardness between them, but he knows Inojin is listening. Sure enough, he will run to Shikadai to report everything to him.

Boruto would like to lean in for a quick kiss from Sarada – and she’s sitting close enough to him for it – but he isn’t going to do this in front of their nosy friends. Besides, he’s sure she wouldn’t return it. It’s too soon.

They eat their food in uncomfortable silence until Sarada takes a look at her watch and exclaims it was time for them to go to their next class.  
  
“I can walk you – if you want to,” Boruto offers with an easy smile. “I know your next class is on the other side of the campus.”  
  
“That would be kind, thank you,” Sarada answers him before taking her jacket and her backpack. As soon as Boruto and Sarada leave the vicinity of Inojin and Chocho, Sarada sees them sitting closer together, most likely to gossip about the awkward lunch break they all just had to endure.

As they step outside, Boruto offers her his hand again, she takes it and lets their arms fall in between them.  
  
“That was an awful meal,” Sarada begins and Boruto needs to laugh the tension off. It’s good to be outside now, away from the curious eyes of their friends.  
  
“I agree. Maybe they’ll get over it in a week or so.”  
  
“Oh God, I sure hope so. I don’t think I can endure another one like it.” Sarada exhales and then turns to look at Boruto.  
  
“I do think this whole dating thing is partially overrated, and I don’t mean dating you or anyone else specifically. But having someone who walks you to class is kind of nice.” The smile she gives him is enough to color his ears red, but he can only grin in return.  
  
“Well, it’s nice having someone to walk to class then.” As they make it up the building to her History class, Boruto brings up another topic to talk about.  
  
“You know, you kinda surprised me when you said you wanted to watch a horror movie Saturday. I know you love romance novels so I thought you’d prefer Pride and Prejudice, but you really want to go and see ‘IT’?” Sarada laughs and he takes it as a cue to continue, “You don’t have to watch a horror movie because of me.”  
  
“I just find it weird to watch them with other people, romance movies I mean. Usually, there are kissing scenes and sex scenes and it just makes everything awkward. If you watch it with a date, there’s this sort of expectation in the air.”

Oh…so she didn’t want to watch a scene like that with him because she thinks he’d expect her to make out with him?  
  
“You know I don’t expect you to do anything you really don’t want to do, right,” he asks her for affirmation.

“Oh, yes, I know. We have been friends for a long time, remember? I wouldn’t have tolerated you for so long if I would’ve thought you were such a person.”  
  
They turn around a corner and reach Sarada’s classroom. Since he has a free hour before he needs to get going again, he can go to the library for a quick study session and is in no rush.  
“Thank you for bringing me to my class…,” she trails off as she turns around and they look at each other. If their situation were any different, he would kiss her on her lips, maybe linger there for a bit. He’d tell her he would miss her even though they’d see each other again after only a few hours.  
  
But their situation is the way it is, so he only leans in and presses his lips against her cheek. He doesn’t have the guts yet to go in for a full kiss, this must suffice for now. And yet, he is not disappointed, instead gets to see faint pink blush coating her cheeks. She looks like she wants to say something for a moment, hesitates and then leaves him to go to her class.  
  
Boruto keeps thinking about the blush he saw the entire way to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will add the rest of the chapters today so you can all read it on here! Stay tuned :)


	3. A Clown and a Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The charms of the blond boy do not go by Sarada without notice and she tries to pull away before anyone gets hurt. Naturally, Boruto is hurt.

If you have something to look forward to, time goes by faster than you’d like it to. Their friends have four more days to get used to seeing him and Sarada act like a clumsy couple until Saturday comes around. Neither Shikadai or Chocho teased them throughout the week, more than aware that Boruto would chew them out for it on the spot – his nerves have been getting paper-thin, Shikadai’s words still running on his mind like they are preparing for a marathon.

Time is running away too fast for Boruto’s liking, the first week is already over and there are only three more left. He still hasn’t kissed Sarada. There have been moments though, moments in which he must have been confused because he could have sworn Sarada looked like she wanted him to kiss her. The problem is that if he misjudged her reaction, he would ruin his chances and she’d pull away from him. Getting Sarada angry at him and thinking he was only after her for physical affection by coercion scares him.

He is on thin ice after all.

Saturday morning comes with fog all over the town, but it’s not cold enough to stop Boruto from going on his early morning jog across the park. With Sarada taking up so much space up in his head, he needs something – anything – to help him organize his thoughts. The first soccer match of the season is quickly approaching and he does not intent to fall behind his teammates. As their striker he needs to be on top of his game when the time arrives, even if he’s not their top player for this position. If Inojin is injured at any point throughout the next months, he must be able to step up.

His legs are screaming as they carry him across the path beneath his feet and he makes the last meters in a sprint, beating his own personal record for the first time in months. So far, so good. A quick shower helps him feel ready for the rest of the day, to make sure he smells nicely when he goes out to meet Sarada before the movies.

He recalls she said she had liked the aftershave he had used during their first date, so he sprays some of it onto his neck. Hopefully she’ll like it during their second date, too.

Even if he and Sarada have grown up together, he still has a very vague idea of the things she likes in a potential partner. He knows her hobbies, the kind of tea and coffee she prefers, what kind of shampoo she uses – the Mango kind from The Body Shop – and her favored places for study sessions.

Those things aren’t difficult to figure out about anyone if you just spend enough time together, but they’ve never talked about girlfriends or boyfriends. While he has gone through girlfriend after girlfriend throughout high school and university until now, he cannot recall seeing her with a date at any time.

Like, sure she has had dates, he’s heard Chocho and her talk about them before, but he has never seen them. Back then he was grateful for it, now he wishes he would have seen her with those boys at least once.

In the end, Boruto decides to just wear a clean shirt and a pair of pants, it would suffice, hopefully. Sarada has never criticized him for his clothes either. After he is done getting ready for the day, he is about to sit down with his breakfast as his phone starts vibrating, a message from Shikadai just came through.

**_S.:_ ** _Hey you getting ready for your date tonight?_

**_B.:_ ** _Yeah, got any tips? I’m more nervous than last time_

**_S.:_ ** _Is that even possible??_

**_B.:_ ** _You’re such a great friend, Shika, do you know that?_

**_S.:_ ** _Indeed I’m such a great friend I’ll mend your broken heart for you in three weeks. Don’t get your hopes up._

With a grunt, Boruto shoves the phone in his backpack and starts eating his meal. He still has a study session ahead of him before he will meet with Sarada.

* * *

Sarada decides to wear something more casual on today’s date, a pair of dark jeans and a mustard yellow knitted sweater paired with light-brown boots and her red coat on top again. Her hair is lose and falling over her shoulders as per usual. Boruto better not turn up wearing a suit or else she might want to run back inside to put on something fancier.

But no, when his car pulls up into her street, he’s wearing a dark grey sweater and even though she cannot see his pants from where she is standing, she would bet money on them being a pair of jeans.

Just like on their last date, he gets up and comes around the car to open the door for her, the way men used to do it in the past because they wanted to keep up chivalry. Sarada doesn’t think he has to do any of these kind of things, doesn’t have to pay her bill in the restaurant, pay for the movie tickets, doesn’t have to open the door for her, but there is a time and place for everything, she tells herself.

This can wait.

His smile is just as big as last time as she comes up to him and she returns it with ease. They meet at the car and for a second neither of them know how to continue. Kiss each other in greeting, say ‘hello’ or is better to not say anything at all?

She decides to go for a simple “hey!” at which he nods after a moment of confusion. The smile on his face isn’t gone yet, but he sits down on the driver’s seat once more and there is something else on his face, Sarada cannot recognize it.

She decides not to mention it, focusing on the time ahead of them.

“So, if we want to get to the movie by 8, then we have about three hours of free time to kill before that,” she begins to explain.

“’Kill time’”, Boruto answers her, “You make it sound so terrible to spend time with me, like you can’t wait to get away.” He turns his head towards her and Sarada feels embarrassed.

“No, it’s quite nice to spend time with you. I am curious though what you have planned to do before the film.”

“Ah, yes, well, I thought we’d get something to eat. We had Italian food last time so I figured maybe we could have something American? Burgers and fries in a diner. Does that sound agreeable to you?”, he asks her, now with that same old twinkle in his eyes.

“Sounds more than agreeable to me,” Sarada replies, “and not just the food.”

His head jerks around like he just heard a gunshot and his cheeks go redder and redder until Sarada feels the need to say something.

“Don’t stare at me like this. I do enjoy spending time with you, believe it or not.” Boruto hears her, of course, but keeps sending her incredulous looks whenever he must think she doesn’t notice.

For the sake of keeping her head as clear as possible with Boruto in the car, she pretends not to notice.

* * *

The movie turns out to be less scary than what Boruto has anticipated – he’s never read the novel – but he still enjoys it nonetheless. How can he not? Their food at the diner was more than just delicious and when he had offered Sarada his hand again at the cinema, she had taken it without seemingly hesitating at all.

All throughout the movie, he does not let go and neither does she so when they stand up to leave, Boruto can just pull her along with him. As close together as he can allow himself to pull her to him at any rate, because after that short, fleeting moment in the car Sarada hasn’t said anything concerning him again.

He wishes she would say more, to tell him again how much she enjoys spending time with him, even if their relationship will only last four weeks. Shikadai has been right, Boruto muses, he’s taken Sarada’s every word towards him and build his hopes up with them like they are red bricks.

It’s almost embarrassing to him how much he wants her to feel for him at least a tiny bit the way he feels for her, but then again he has spent a big chunk of his life living with this thought inside his head.

Now is not the time to wallow in self-pity.

“Did you like it?”

“Huh?” Boruto stutters, turns to look at her. He looks around and sees they’re already standing next to his car again. He’s been spending the entire time thinking about himself while he could have talked to her.

“The movie?” She tilts her head as if unsure of his reaction, but he shakes his head and laughs.

“I think they did a great job on Pennywise. I don’t want to see another clown for at least 2 years.”

She laughs again and her eyes turn into the crescent moon shape which he enjoys seeing on her so much. She seems younger with her cheeks flushed, eyes twinkling with laughter and joy. He enjoys making her laugh like this.

With one small step he closes the distance between them and presses his lips against her cheek once more – this is only the second time he has had the courage to push his luck so far. And the effect this has on himself is better than even the last time. His heartbeat speeds up, he closes his eyes and lets the warmth spread through his chest before he pulls back to look at her, to see if he stepped over any boundaries tonight.

However, she doesn’t let him go far before she presses up against him, her hands on his chest, fingers in the collar of his jacket, and pulls him down to kiss her again, a proper kiss this time. Boruto is surprised, but doesn’t miss a second to kiss her back, their lips pushing against each other before she opens her mouth and captures his upper lip in between hers.

Without thinking about it, he lets out a groan, deep in his throat, filled with desire to kiss her more. One hand around her waist, the other cradling her face with his fingers, she brushes her tongue against his, melting both of them together. When they turn their heads over, it’s his turn to explore her mouth, bringing them back together again and again until she occupies every last corner of his mind.

Sarada steps back, pulling him with her until their lips part and they stare at each other, both pairs of eyes hazy with desire, their lips a puffy red.

He doesn’t want to stop kissing her like this, but there are better places to make out than a parking lot. Neither of them is able to say anything as they get into his car, but he doesn’t feel the need to, his mind is still blank.

Boruto has often thought about kissing Sarada, both intentionally and unconsciously. He remembers an instant during high school, she had been chewing on the end of her pin and all Boruto had been able to stare at had been her lips around the pencil.

Nothing in this world could have prepared him for the real experience, though.

He starts the engine of the car and swerves outside of their parking spot to line up into the traffic down the street, when suddenly something tugs at his sleeve. It’s Sarada, asking him silently to link their hands together.

He doesn’t have to think twice to give his hand to her and he strokes over the back of her hand with his thumb as they make their way home.

* * *

After Boruto drops her off at her house, she closes the door behind her with shaky fingers and the key falls down once, then again a second time. The lock finally clicks in place and she can let out a shaky breath.

She did not plan to kiss him tonight, and yet. And yet it had happened. Does she regret it? Not one bit. One kiss and she had been hooked, heart racing and blood boiling with ecstasy. Not in a hundred years would she have thought kissing Boruto could ever have this kind of effect on her, but he does.

When he leaned in for the kiss on her cheek, warmth had coated her entire body, spreading from where his lips had brushed against her skin and suddenly her only desire had been to kiss him. He didn’t disappoint her one bit.

Now, standing in her quiet apartment with no lights on, his warmth left her faster than she wanted to, like he took it with him. One look at her phone tells her she has three unread messages by Chocho.

_Chocho, 6:43 pm: omg girl tell me when you’re back home_

_Chocho, 8:13 pm: please don’t make we wait, I want all the tea_

_Chocho, 10:07 pm: I demand answers alright_

Sarada wants to laugh, but the tingling of her lips makes it surprisingly hard to. Her fingers fly over the phone and she holds it up against her ear. It takes less than three rings before Chocho answers her.

“Oh my God, you are back!” Judging by the sound in the background, Chocho just sat down on something, a chair maybe or her bed.

“Yes, I’m back,” Sarada whispers, her fingers brushing against her lips, testing if the tingling is real or only in her head.

“How was it?” Chocho asks with barely hidden curiosity in her voice.

“It was good. It went well I mean. We had something to eat and then watched the movie. Nothing weird happened or anything.”

Chocho sighs. “I don’t want to know about the weird details, but the _juicy_ ones. Did you guys play kindergarten again and only held hands or did you finally kiss each other?”

When Sarada doesn’t answer her immediately, Chocho starts yelling. “You did make out, didn’t you? Oh my god, that is huge, that is _major_ –“

“No it’s not. It’s not ‘major’,” Sarada bites back, harsher than she has wanted to. The moment Chocho started gushing about her and Boruto, Sarada to panicked. So far she had not time to think about what just happened to herself at all, she isn’t ready in any way to talk to someone else about it.

Admitting to the truth right here, right now isn’t just hard, it’s impossible. Denial may be bleak, but it’s easy. And right now, she can only handle ‘easy’. Exposing herself the way she did to Boruto left her feeling raw and vulnerable and she does not want to share this with anyone else at the moment.

“Oh,” Chocho just says with a small voice, “okay. I just thought, you know…”

“There is nothing to talk about to be honest. The date was still nice, but the kiss wasn’t a big thing. Just a kiss, you know?” Even with pure silence Chocho can tell Sarada how much she doesn’t believe her for one second.

“I am tired, though. How about we talk tomorrow again, okay?” Sarada offers her, fingers still on her own lips.

“Oh, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow. Good night!”

Sarada just hangs up. Her lips tingle for hours to come.

* * *

The cafeteria is too full for her liking when she enters during her break the next Monday, beginning of the second week. She hasn’t heard from Boruto all throughout Sunday, which surprised her, but maybe he was busy. Even if Boruto tries to take life not too seriously, he cannot avoid all responsibilities forever. He, too, has homework to do and essays to write.

Her phone vibrates and to her surprise it’s him.

_Boruto, 1:17 pm: We need to talk. Meet me at the entrance of the park during lunch._

After not hearing from him for a day, this kind of request surprises her and she goes over everything that could have happened so he would make such a serious request via phone. He’s not the type for it unless the situation requires it.

Since most students spend their break in the dining hall, barely anyone stands in her way as she spots a blond head near a tree.

“Hey!” Sarada exclaims with a smile, not without caution. “Your message sounded serious, is everything alright?”

He looks at her and there is little of that warmth left that she saw on their Saturday date. Instead he looks angry, hurt even.

“Am I alright?” When she doesn’t answer him in confusion, he continues. His voice is harder than his eyes. “I am not alright. You know, I come home from our date on Saturday, right? I enjoyed myself, I thought you did too, but apparently I was wrong.

“I come home and I call Shikadai to chat with him. After I tell him how well everything went, how _happy_ I felt, he tells me something funny.”

 _Oh, no,_ Sarada thinks. She knows why Boruto is angry now.

“He told me that apparently you think our kiss meant very little and that it was ‘just a kiss’. Weird, because I didn’t get that impression from you at all. So I just would like to know to whom you lied?”

“Lied? I d-didn’t lie to anyone…”

“Was it true then?” The look on Boruto’s face of pure hurt and disappointment is worse than anything she could have imagined. She’s never seen this Boruto before. Sarada swallows but her mouth remains dry. She feels small, forced into the headlights, panic hits her like a cold wave out of nowhere.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean­ –“ he takes a step towards her “ – did you really believe that when we kissed, that it was nothing? That it meant nothing to you? You didn’t feel anything at all?”

“It wasn’t ‘nothing’ –“ “But it wasn’t anything special either to you, was it?”

“You did ask me to let you kiss me during these four weeks, didn’t you,” Sarada reminds him.

“So that’s what it was? You just upheld our deal? Better get it over with sooner than later?”

Boruto’s hurt is worse than his anger, but both make it incredibly difficult for her to say anything. She whispers his name, once, and he winces. She cannot bring herself to say anything further.

When he realizes she isn’t going to tell him what he wants to hear and what she knows is the truth, he takes a step back, out of her reach and turns around.

 _Is he crying?_ she thinks. _Please don’t cry_. She remains silent.

“We’ll talk later then. Bye for now.”

The ‘fuck you’ goes unsaid.


	4. Missed Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sarada tries to make it up to Boruto. Boruto pulls away, all for the drama™.

It doesn’t go past Chocho when Sarada returns to the dorm and makes a point to slam the door hard enough to make the walls vibrate. The two girls share an apartment, but due to vastly different schedules, only see each other during lunch breaks on campus most of the time. They make a point to go out for breakfast on Sundays together.

She peeks outside the living room when Sarada comes around the corner, her foul mood radiating off her in dark waves.

“You just _had_ to tell Shikadai, didn’t you,” Sarada accuses her. “You were just happy to gossip with him about stuff you’re not supposed to say anything about.”

Chocho has the decency to look sorry at least. “I take it Boruto got angry at you?”

“’Angry’ is an understatement,” Sarada says, shaking and close to tears. “I’m not sure how long it’ll take for him to forgive me, if at all.”

“Now this is weird, isn’t it?” When Sarada is about to say something again, Chocho just continues. “Listen, girl, you agreed to date him for four weeks, right? You also admitted to knowing that he loves you – yes, _loves_ you! – and you accepted his proposal anyway, knowing full well you are going to hurt him. So don’t come to me right now because Boruto is hurt because of something you did.

“So, unless you plan to continue dating him by the end of this mess, you will hurt him anyway. So I don’t really understand why you are so mad now.” Chocho finishes her rant with a triumphant smile.

“I’m mad because this hurt is unnecessary. You shouldn’t have told him about it, period. We could have enjoyed our four weeks and that would have been it. We could have parted ways without drama.”

Chocho’s eyebrows grow higher and higher the more Sarada speaks. “Tell me you don’t really believe Boruto could’ve just let you go in the end? Have you taken one good look at him? He’s like…a puppy. He’d follow you anywhere.”

She is well aware this is the truth her friend doesn’t want to hear. Chocho is Sarada’s best friend and has been her best friend for a long time. Sarada has been in hardcore denial about Boruto for too long and Chocho is tired of her friend denying herself, just because accepting the truth may be ‘uncomfortable’.

Sarada’s eyes fill up with guilt as her words start to sink in and she averts her gaze to the ground. “No, I don’t really believe that.”

“Finally! Good! Some progress is long overdue. So,” Chocho says, stepping up and pulling her friend into a hug, “How about this? You start by trying to be honest to me. Why did you kiss him after your last date? I’ve been dying to know.”

Sarada sniffles, then smiles. “Well, he kissed me first. On the cheek. And…,” when Chocho’s eyes widen in anticipation, Sarada continues, “And it just felt nice.”

“Nice?”

“Nice.”

“That’s all it made you feel? _Nice_?”

Sarada’s face lights up with a red blush that can rival a tomato, but Chocho doesn’t comment on it.

“Well, I guess it felt better than just ‘nice’.”

“So you kissed him because it made you feel hot?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Girl, you have to tell him. Such a confession will turn things around, trust me.”

Sarada takes a step away, so Chocho puts both her hands on her hips.

“I’m not sure he’s ready to talk to me again. I just – I really hurt him last time,” she whispers.

“Call him. Let him know.”

* * *

When his phone starts vibrating, Boruto doesn’t bother to look at it. He’s in his room, with a paper due and a cup of black coffee next to his laptop. He needs to concentrate. Besides, since his fight with Sarada, he hasn’t been in the mood to talk to anyone. Even Inojin and Shikadai have stayed out of his way since he returned home.

The two of them are probably still gossiping in the shared kitchen, though.

His phone starts vibrating for the third and time and now he assumes that whoever is calling him must talk to him. An emergency, perhaps?

He searches for his phone on in the layers of his bedsheets where he left it, but it stops ringing before he can reach it. Once in his hand, he pulls it out and stares at the screen.

**3 missed calls from: Sarada**

His first thought is to call her back immediately, the second one tells him to ignore her after what she said earlier at school.

The kiss hasn’t been anything special, _you idiot_. Of course it wasn’t. He’s Boruto and she’s Sarada, it’s the way things have always been. And hasn’t Shikadai been right about that from the very start?

However, he’s not an asshole, not to her. And even if they’re fighting and his chest still hurts from what she said to him, she may as well be calling about an emergency.

So his third thought is to call her back. As he lies down, her voice comes muffled through the speaker of his phone with a clicking sound.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, you called me.”

After a beat of silence she says, “I didn’t think you’d call me back.”

“Well, I did. So what do you want?” His voice sounds harsh, even to him, but he cannot allow himself to be any softer around her.

“I, uh, I wanted to talk to you. About what happened.”

“Yeah, how about we don’t.”

“I just wanted to call and ask about the rest of our four weeks…Do you want to drop everything?”

_Do you want to drop everything?_

Does he? He still feels her lips on his, he can still taste her. He doesn’t want to tell her this, however. He remains silent. Sarada continues.

“Because, you see, I want apologize. It’s why I originally called. What I said to you was cruel and it was untrue as well.”

Boruto, previously lying down on his bed, now sits up, body tense.

“I shouldn’t have lied to you – or Chocho for that matter – but the way she confronted me and then you later at school, I don’t know, I guess I panicked.

“I liked kissing you. I mean, I’m the one who started it, right? So yeah, I’m apologizing for lying to you about this. I should have been more honest.” She ends her confession with a shaky sigh.

Silence. Then a smile so smug it should have been forbidden slowly spreads across his cheeks.

“You liked kissing me, huh?”

“I am not going to repeat myself about this, Boruto,” she reminds him and he imagines her vividly with flushed cheeks and a pout on her lips.

“You enjoyed it.”

His ego puffs up like a peacock. This changes things, of course, and his sullen mood dissipates like hot air. Suddenly, he cannot stop thinking about this week. About their date.

“So, when do you have time to go out again this week? I’ve come to realize I have a lot of free time on my hands – for the right kind of person,” he drawls.

With the negative tension between them gone and exchanged for something better, Sarada finally laughs. “How about Friday? I have homework due and I’d like to savor the time until then.”

“Friday sounds good to me. Will you sit with me for lunch tomorrow?” Boruto asks, hoping she’ll say yes.

“And this time alone maybe?” Sarada suggests.

It’s his turn now to blush, he cannot help himself. That she’d suggest being alone with him shouldn’t surprise him considering she called him to make up and have another date, but it still causes him to feel dizzy, like his head is wrapped in cotton.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

* * *

Sarada tells Chocho as soon as her phone call ended that she and Boruto had made up. For the rest of the week, everything is back to normal, if you consider Boruto and her kissing around school normal, too.

The first time it happens, they sit at lunch together and he joins them and like it’s nothing new to him, leans in to capture her lips in a quick kiss. Boruto doesn’t linger, she suspects it’s because he doesn’t want to give their friends anything to gawk at.

She silently wishes he would.

They walk around campus, holding hands now more comfortably than she would have ever thought it could be, and he makes sure to kiss her every time they part. Even if Sarada’s mind is occupied at all times with homework, group projects and Boruto, darker thoughts float around, too.

The second week is almost over, she’d have this week’s date with Boruto later this evening, which means that only two more weeks are left. The deadline is like a knife hovering over her head at all times, she tries to ignore it.

It’s better to concentrate on what is now rather than what will happen in two weeks.

At home she slips into a short black dress, one she bought last year, but hasn’t had the chance to wear yet.  
It’s a long sleeve, with a deep v-cut to her décolletage and black tights, a pair of black high heels on her feet.

The only thing Boruto told her about the restaurant they will go to is ‘fancy’, so she has to look fancy, too.

A light grey wool coat completes her outfit and she makes sure to use some perfume on her way out.

In front of her house, waiting in front of his car, is Boruto. His hair is as untidy and rebellious as always, but today he looks _sharp_. When she comes out, his eyes shoot up and focus on her for a while before roaming down her legs and back up to her face.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers as Sarada steps up to him. “But I didn’t expect anything else. Know you too well I guess,” he adds with a sly grin.

“You’re one to talk. You’re wearing a suit, all black. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you dressed this fancily.” She laughs at the face he makes when she mentions the suit. He’s not a fan of formal wear.

Anything for Sarada though.

They lean in for a kiss, not the quick kind they shared at school, but the softer kind, with flushed cheeks, red mouths and hot breath, before getting into the car. Soft music accompanies them as they drive to their destination, Sarada has plenty of time to stare at Boruto luckily. She studies his face, more than she ever has before; his eyes despite their color are bright and still warm, he has a broad nose, fitting for his face. He looks sun kissed, his blond hair tousled and wild.

“What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?”

Sarada bites her lip and looks outside the window, he can’t see the blush creeping up her cheeks from this angle. Her obvious embarrassment amuses him.

“You know, you can look at me as much as you want to. I don’t mind.”

“I haven’t been staring at you.”

“Whatever you say,” Boruto says before lowering his voice. “But I still like it.”

“I have not been staring at you,” she replies with ease, but a smile on her lips gives her away. He gives her hand a squeeze before parking the car.

The restaurant turns out to be Mediterranean, Sarada doesn’t mind. The food is delicious, but neither of them pay it a lot of attention. Most of their time is spent looking at each other. Since she doesn’t have to drive on their way home, Sarada is drinking a glass of red wine while Boruto has water.

“The bruschetta is to die for. So fresh,” she mumbles, swallowing another bite.

“I’m happy you like it.”

The look he gives her is even more meaningful than his words: _I want to make you happy_.

“Here,” she tells him, picks up a piece of bruschetta and holds it up. “Have a try.” It has the effect on him she wanted it to have: his eyes bulge, his mouth falls open and his hands sink down onto the table.

His shock doesn’t last long before he lowers his mouth on her fingers and Sarada pushes the food inside his mouth, his lips press against her skin. There is tomato juice on her hands, he catches it with his mouth before sitting up again, his eyes hot with desire for her.

Sarada cannot look away; his eyes demand her attention.

In the end, they have to leave the restaurant earlier than anticipated, both of them more than willing to go back home to be able to kiss without strangers’ eyes on them.

* * *

As soon as Boruto sits down behind the wheel, Sarada turns his head towards her and brings her mouth on his, lips pushing against each other, making each other dizzy. They break the kiss to come for air and Boruto starts the engine, driving home a tad faster than he should if he would have wanted to appear cool and collected.

“I didn’t know you were this…demanding,” he begins to explain, knowing well enough Sarada is still watching him. “Or maybe it’s just the glass of red wine you had,” he adds with a smirk.

“It was only one glass. I think you’re giving yourself too little credit.” She leans up against him, her chest pushing against his arm – he tries to ignore that.

He fails at it.

“You wanted me to be honest, right? Well, I am honest now,” Sarada whispers and begins to kiss his neck, Boruto stares at the road ahead as if his eyes are made of glue.

“I can’t help myself right now, not with you in this suit.” Her pale hand roams over his chest and Boruto catches his breath. His attention cannot waver while driving.

“Sarada…” His voice is darker than usual, lust glazing over his mind in a sugary overload. He hits the gas pedal harder than he really should, and they arrive at her home in a record speed. At home, all the lights are out, it suggests Chocho already went to bed – or is secretly waiting for her friend to return home to drill her with questions.

Boruto’s mind takes a sharp turn when Sarada opens the door of the car to go home, he stops her by grabbing wrist, not in an aggressive manner, though.

“I’m sorry, Sarada, but I don’t think I can come upstairs with you today.” He swallows as the temperature in the car noticeably cools down, not just figuratively. The mood change comes down like a wall of ice.

She stares at him, trying to read him to find out what she possibly could have done to bring on his change of mood.

“Oh…okay.” It’s obvious Sarada is taken aback by his decision. “Did I do something…?”

“Oh, no, it’s not you. I know this is a cliché to say, but really, it wasn’t you. At all. This is on me,” he explains, now nervous because he cannot read her properly to understand how badly he just fucked up.

Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything and just gone upstairs with her.

“No, it’s okay. If you change your mind, you change your mind and I don’t hold it up against you,” she answers, with a smile. Boruto knows she means it, she is a genuinely good person, however her hands are shaking as she finally gets up from the car.

He doesn’t ask for a kiss before he takes off, only making sure to stay long enough until she disappears into her house.

And would you look at that, the moment the door closes, another light upstairs comes on. Chocho getting up to be nosy.

And won’t Sarada just have a big story to tell her friend.


	5. Bruises and Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first soccer match of the season has arrived and Boruto wants Sarada there for his emotional support. Naturally, things get heated. Also a bit of smut ahead.

“This is so good. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” Boruto mumbles while biting into his sandwich, filled with turkey, mayo and salad. The pub adds a homemade sauce too and he cannot figure out what it’s made of, something spicy for sure.

Sarada lifts her glass for a sip of water, nods and swallows her food.

“They have remodeled the inside here until about two weeks ago and it was very different before,” she explains to him. “I go here if I don’t want to cook at home on the weekends.”

“We should go here during our lunch breaks,” Boruto says, winking at her. “I like spending my breaks with you. Fewer friends who stare at us while trying to appear nonchalant.”

He huffs in annoyance. After their last date the prior week, the two of them returned to normal behavior – as normal as it can be, that is. Their friends waited for news on the pair, but none came. Shikadai didn’t get any info because Boruto avoided being alone with him like the plague, and Sarada didn’t tell Chocho a single thing about what happened before Boruto had dropped her off.

Whatever happened that changed Boruto’s mind, Sarada didn’t know it. But she knew for a fact Chocho would be merciless towards her boyfriend if she knew he’d refused to spend some quality time between Sarada’s bedsheets.

She decided to protect him from this scrutiny.

Even today, four days after their last date Chocho tried to press Sarada for details and the girl remained silent, much to the dislike of her friend.

“Same. Chocho is so nosy for no good reason.”

“What…did you tell her?” Boruto asked, uncertainty tainting his eyes.

“Is there anything I should have told her?” Sarada replies and relieve comes from Boruto through a tight smile.

“I told you, what happened wasn’t your fault. Do you believe me?”

She looks into his blue eyes, eyes she has been looking into for most of her life and she cannot find a good reason not to trust him.

_Still._

“I’m trying,” she answers, taking another bite of her panini. He nods and decides it’s time to change the topic. She welcomes it.

“So, tomorrow there will be the first soccer match of the season.” He rests his chin on his elbow and watches Sarada with amused eyes. She in return pretends to not understand the implications.

“And what does that mean?” She tries to sound innocent but really she sounds sly, the grin on her face adds to the impression.

“That means I will be running around for about 90 minutes, trying to make sure my team wins,” he drawls, explaining the obvious to her like she needs help understanding what he means.

“Ah, what does that have to do with me though?” Forgotten are the food and the drinks. She leans in, lowering her voice like there are sharing a secret.

“Well, obviously I’d like you to be there. Cheering on me – not that I would need the extra motivation to be the best player on the field – but a bit extra strength can’t hurt, you know?”

They stare into each other’s eyes before bursting into laughter a moment later.

“Seriously,” he mumbles in between giggles, “will you come?”

“Depends. When does the game start?”

Face lighting up with happiness, he says, “5 pm on the dot. I have to be there by 3, you could come at 4 to make sure you get a good spot. I want you to see me when I score.”

“Whoa, you sound so self-confident you’re going to win this game – that you’ll even score. What happens if you lose?” Sarada questions, folding her hands on the wooden table.

“Well, then I have someone nice to cheer me up afterwards.”

The blush that comes up to coat her skin in red flames is almost sinfully obvious and she wishes her self-control would be better around him. Then again, her lack of recent self-control has gotten her quite a few good dates with him, hasn’t it?

Neither does she want to regain her self-control when he kisses her good-bye later that day. The more he kisses her, the more she finds herself pulling him closer. And the more she pulls him closer, the more she remembers his lips on hers for the rest of her day. She comes home and still smells like him.

When she puts her clothes on the bed, his smell lingers on her bedsheets for a while and she wants to press her face into them the way she did before class with his chest. At night it is harder to lie to yourself because the world comes down to rest and soon enough you’re alone with your thoughts. What remains is the question how she feels for him, now that she has him for herself temporarily, but she cannot make herself say it out loud.

Instead she goes to Chocho’s room and Sarada lets her friend fill the silence inside her head with constant chatter.

Her bedsheets do not smell like Boruto anymore when she goes to bed.

* * *

The first soccer match of the season arrives with sunshine and a mood as clear as the sky. The boys are excited and fired up even during the early training before the match, they meet just to discuss their strategies once more before the game begins. Once more before it matters.

The chatter and echo from hundreds of fans comes even into their dressing room and their trainer, Coach Sarutobi, comes to a halt to peg them in the eye. He doesn’t smile, and yet it’s obvious, he is as excited as his players are. Inojin has managed to stay unharmed until today so Boruto isn’t the top player on the field.

Usually this would cause him to pout, Boruto doesn’t enjoy being put into place number two. Today though, Sarada would be watching and he cannot trust himself not to risk a glance or two into her direction. The team is counting on him to perform to the best of his skills nonetheless, so he cannot slack.

The walk to the field is as loud as it is unnerving. At this point of the game, the waiting is the worst thing, once it starts all the nerves fall away and he is able to concentrate. The fans’ screams and cheers whirl around his head in a blinding echo until it is only a blur. He is to go onto the field during the first half, as long as he can, the second half is meant for Inojin. If he gets badly injured before the end of the first half, there will be Shikadai to go in for him, but he isn’t supposed to play today.

And he doesn’t want to disappoint Sarada either, not if she has come here today, in her free time, just for him. A quick glance at the seats – and he can spot her among the crowd. He’s spent too much of his life singling her out from crowds to fail at it right now.

He waves at her, she waves back after a heartbeat.

They line up, the voices of the crowd like drums for their feet, left right left right, and the captains shake hands. Formalities exchanged, then everyone back onto their rightful place. The seconds go by and he is hit by a wave of calamity, nerves gone, the only thing left is the heartbeat in his ears.

The first pass of the game goes to the opponent team. It doesn’t take long for everyone to get down to business – 14 minutes in and Boruto gets fouled for the first time so far. He’s small, built for speed and not strength, so his opponents like to gang up on him. Most of the time he can get past them, even if he doesn’t score, to rattle them up, but as he goes down for the 7th time in the game, he knows he’ll suffer for this. Sure enough, he notices as he looks down, his nose is bleeding.

The referees stop the game, again, and he limps off the field. The medics take a look at his face, wipe away the blood and tell him nothing is broken. He’s glad for their affirmation, he cannot feel it for himself anymore. His entire body aches.

“Can you continue playing?” Coach Sarutobi asks.

“Yeah,” he replies, trotting back on the field. He makes sure to keep his face away from the seats where he knows Sarada sits. He doesn’t want her to see this right now. She should enjoy the game.

Coach Sarutobi stands on the outskirts of the field, motioning for him to get more aggressive with his gameplay. He scores 3 minutes later, with the help of Iwabe, and can finally limp off the field another 9 minutes after that. To say that he is beaten up is an understatement and the medics take their time with him in the medic area. His face got hit the worst, but there are bruises on his ribs, too.

“You might want to go to a doctor after the game to get checked out if the bruises get worse.”

The medic stares at him with hard eyes and he can only nod. He’ll go get checked tomorrow maybe, not today. He is too tired to do this right now and none of the minor injuries are dangerous at any rate.

He turns to get back to the field when someone else comes down the hall. It’s Sarada, she isn’t limping and sweaty like him, but there is worry in her eyes as she takes a good look at his beaten up state. It really shouldn’t please him so much to know that she worries about him, but it does.

 _You worry about me_ , he thinks. _Almost like you have a soft spot for me_.

“It’s nothing big,” he begins to tell her but she cuts him off. “I can’t believe they’d injure you like this. They ganged up on you! This is no fair play.” She gently takes his chin in between her fingers and twists his head from side to side. By now, she must be able to see the bruises well enough.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” Boruto asks. Her face is serious and she bites her lip.

“Looks serious enough. Do you want to go to a doctor?”

“Nah, don’t have to unless it gets worse.” He smiles at her even if his face hurts because of it. When she doesn’t reply, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her in for a hug.

“It’s not as bad as it looks. If it were bad, trust me, I’d go to a hospital. It’s okay. Here,” he whispers, pressing his face into her hair and taking a deep breath.

“Just hug me for a while. That should make me feel better, I think.”

She huffs and leans into his body. Finally, because the warmth that spreads throughout his chest is better than any painkiller. He can relax now, knowing that the result of the game is out of his hands and she is at his side.

“Physical affection isn’t going to heal your bruises,” she tells him, but there is no hostility in her voice.

“I think you are severely underestimating the kind of effect you have on me, especially when you’re so close.”

“Oh, do I now?” She’s cheeky and he likes it. He presses them closer together.

“Oh, absolutely.” They both lean in for a quick kiss, but when she pulls away, he comes closer again. A roar coming from outside the medic area makes their heads peek up. Another goal for their team.

“How about we go somewhere else?” Boruto asks her, his eyes returning to her lips. “I think the medic area will get full soon enough. Our opponents will get desperate and desperation makes you aggressive.”

“And where would we go?” Sarada asks him, her fingers tracing over his chest.

“Let’s go to the dressing room. I need to take a shower.” They walk the way to the dressing rooms without anyone batting an eye at them and Boruto is more than glad that the dressing room is empty. He wants to be alone with her.

“So, do you need help taking off your clothes? Since you’re so badly hurt.”

He laughs, partially because he knows she is being truthful. If he needed help, she’d offer it to him.

“Yeah, come help me take my clothes off, please.” The sly grin that makes his mouth stretch should be forbidden.

She steps closer and within an heartbeat, their lips are pushing against each other again, tongues reaching towards each other until they’re panting. Her hands are warm and light on his skin and the first thing that he takes off is his shirt. His shoes and the socks follow, until soon enough he is only covered by his underwear. The bruises on his skin must be gruesome, but she doesn’t let her reaction show. If she is worried about him, she isn’t showing it. Instead her cheeks are flushed in a lovely red hue, lips bruised. As they kiss, Boruto sneaks a hand beneath her shirt, wraps it around her waist and squeezes the skin, feels the muscles there. She is still soft, all smooth skin under his fingers.

He allows himself to let his hands wander, feel every inch of her that he can get his hands on. However, he does not take her clothes off, what if some of the guys would come in? He doesn’t wish to embarrass her like that.

When she moans into his mouth, he takes the cue and moves his hands upwards, cupping her breasts as good as he can – she is still wearing her bra. It doesn’t bother him anymore that his ribs are aching or that his legs feel wobbly – he does not know any more if this was caused by the game or by her. Her skin is silk in his fingers, warm and smooth without blemish.

He wants her, badly. There is no shame in admitting this to him. He’s been wanting her for years while simultaneously hating himself for it for the longest time. As a kid, he’d been ashamed to realize he felt more for Sarada than an average friend would. Admitting to sexual attraction came easier, but accepting that he wanted to be her boyfriend and not just some fling had taken him years – until graduation from high school to be exact.

At this moment, with his hands over her skin, lips pushing against each other, heat building in his guts, it would be so easy to give in to everything. It’d be easy to forget himself – where they are standing, his teammates about to win the game and entering the dressing rooms, Sarada’s and his _arrangements_. It’d be easy to just give in and get lost in her.

It’d be easy to drown in her.

Boruto takes a step back and lets his hands rest on her hips, squeezing, but firmly putting space between them. “You’ve helped me take off my clothes, but I still need to take a shower,” he whispers, her cheeks still a delicious pink color.

“How about you wait for me outside? I think the boys are going to come in any second now and as much as I enjoyed making out with you…,” he lets his words trail behind, hopes for her to understand what he wants to say.

“You…you want me to just leave?” The last bit of lush heat leaves the dressing room and reality weighs down heavily on the air.

“No, not to leave the stadium! Just…wait for me outside, I’ll come back to you in five minutes and we can grab something to eat perhaps?” he playfully suggests, trying to pull her closer for a final kiss, but Sarada is already leaning away from him.

“Sarada –“ “It’s alright,” she tells him, but somehow Boruto cannot believe her.

“I’ll just wait for you outside. Don’t take too long, alright?”

She doesn’t look back as she leaves the room. Boruto is half-way done with his shower by the time his first teammates enter the room. Cheer, created by their victory today, seems so oddly misplaced in Boruto’s head.


	6. The Blue Takes Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter with the most drama and angst. Lots of it.

The last week of their arrangement comes with rain and foggy landscapes. After the soccer match the week before, Boruto has been doing the utmost to make it up to Sarada, taking her to restaurants and filling up her free time with as much laughter and warmth as possible. This time, however, Sarada has insisted on planning the whole thing. She finally wants to take it to the next level with Boruto.

Whenever she suggested during the past weeks to move to something further than just making out, Boruto stalled. The first time, she assumes, it was because of Chocho being next door and she doubts Boruto would like to sleep with her or stay the night if Chocho is sitting on the other side of the wall, listening.

The other time, his teammates could have come in any second – and while it had frustrated her, she also had to admit that he had been right.

This time will be different though. Chocho is at her parents’ home, away for the break, and Sarada had the dorm to herself. Boruto will come over by 3 pm, so by 2 pm, Sarada has cleaned the house, showered and cooked a meal for the two of them. She also manages to find her best underwear and a pretty dress to wear on top. The lasagna she made is ready to be served and only needs to be reheated quickly in the microwave.

But it turns out, Boruto is late, because by 3:30 pm he still hasn’t arrived and Sarada is starting to get anxious. Either she has gotten ditched by him or something happened and he cannot make it to her.

Retrieving her phone from her bag, she types in a quick message.

 _You:_  
Hey, where are you? Everything alright? We had a date at 3, remember?  
Sent: 3:34 pm

_Boruto:_  
No I haven’t forgotten! How could I forget you? traffic is just shit  
Sent: 3:45 pm

 _You:_  
So you’re on your way? Good! I put on a nice dress, just for you! _♥_ __  
Sent: 3:46 pm

 _Boruto:_  
Yeah, I’ll be there in ten  
Sent: 3:56 pm

Sarada knows ‘the traffic’ isn’t shit at this time of the day, the most traffic flows away from her house during this hour, but she doesn’t mention it to him in another text. Instead, she begins to pace anxiously across her bedroom. He sounded distant, she thinks. Why does he sound so distant? It took him minutes to reply to her when usually he would reply on the spot. Maybe he hasn’t left the house yet and is just looking for an excuse so she won’t get angry with him?

Now that seems like Boruto, but he’s never been late to any of their dates. He’s been punctual, always there on point, never a minute late. Their dates had been too important to him to be late – or at least that’s what she thought.

For a terrifying moment, Sarada firmly believed that whatever evolved between them in the past weeks only existed in her head, but she knows this to be an untruth. There’s no other way.

And just like he said in his messages, ten minutes later Boruto appears at her front door, dressed casually. When she leans in to hug him, he lacks of the scent of his aftershave, the one that she likes so much. This, too, confuses her. He’s always made sure to smell nice for her these past weeks, even at university.

She likes this scent.

“Well, you certainly took forever. The food is all cold I bet,” Sarada tells him.

“You cooked for me?” His eyes widen as if her cooking for him surprises him. “What did you cook?”

“Lasagna. With feta cheese and garlic. I’m sure you’ll like it. Come in,” she replies, taking his jacket and hanging it nearby the door. He looks around and Sarada gets the sensation that he feels lost. He _looks_ lost.

“Is everything alright?”

His eyes snap back to her and he manages an easy smile. She sees through the face mask with ease.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Sarada puts both her hands onto her hips and tilts her head to the side, eyes shrewd. “Somehow, I don’t believe you. You look like something bad happened. You can talk to me, you know?” she says before leaning towards him gain with friendly demeanor.

For a second he hesitates and her stomach drops about ten feet below. Quickly her mind skims over every bad thing that could have happened in the last twelve hours. There are no traces of tears on his face, no red cheeks. He hasn’t cried and Boruto – despite trying to come off as extremely manly and collected – is the type to cry when upset, depending on the situation.

“Is Chocho in her room?” he asks, scratching his head.

“No,” Sarada replies, “she has returned home to her parents for the break. She won’t be back for another two weeks.”

“Ah,” Boruto says, but doesn’t elaborate. The silence is heavy in the room, like a third person who is watching them with accusing eyes, every little breath is loud in her ears.

“So…do you want to have dinner or not?” This time, Sarada’s voice has no playfulness, just a factual tone. She demands an answer, Boruto must know this, his behavior is too strange to be excused without a reason.

“I can’t stay.”

“You…what? Why?” Her voice is a tone too high even to her own ears.

His shoulders sag, suddenly he looks exhausted, years older than mere 23 years. When he looks at her, his eyes are still the same blue shade that she has spent years looking at. Blue like the sea, blue like the sky during its best hours, blue moon. But there is something else too, it takes her a moment to understand it.

Looks like…fear.

“I can’t stay _with you_.”

Sarada stops herself from flinching, even blinking, her hands falling loosely down her sides, limp and useless. There is no feeling left in her fingers, her hands, her arms. There is a sudden disconnect between her, her body. Between her and Boruto. She doesn’t see the blue in his eyes anymore, his face is engulfed in the dark of the fleeting evening sun.

She bites down on her tongue by accident, almost choking and then swallows her saliva.

Tastes like…gun metal. She doesn’t like this taste.

“Wha-What do you mean, exactly?” she whispers. With the silence so heavy in the air, Boruto must hear her clear enough.

“I just can’t do this anymore, alright? The dating. It’s just…it’s no good for me anymore, you know? I mean…” Boruto wants to explain but when Sarada steps closer he trails off. Her body still is not connected to her brain, to the now new and all-consuming reality.

“What exactly do you mean with _‘no good’_?”

He has enough shame to lower his eyes and stare at his feet as he explains. “I just can’t take this anymore. Dating you was good and all, but I don’t have the endurance to continue this-“ he motions between them with his fingers as if she cannot understand “- anymore. I, uh, I guess I am sorry for wasting your time.” Boruto grimaces as he looks into Sarada’s eyes. She isn’t crying, not yet at any rate, but she is confused and hurt.

Her brain tries to make her come up with a variety of curses or demands that Boruto needs to follow, but her body isn’t hers at the moment. She can only stare at the boy in front of her. When she doesn’t try to talk to him anymore, it seems he figures that he said all he needed to say.

He doesn’t leave a trace as he leaves her dorm, only the car’s engine roaring, first still near, then further and further away from her until she only hears her own breath. His feet do not leave prints behind, nor does his scent linger. Sarada supposes that without the cologne his scent just isn’t that strong perhaps.

Not strong enough to stay with her at any rate. She misses his scent.

The disconnect between her mind and her body comes to a stop in sudden waves. At first she lifts her hands, watches them tremble, then her mind catches up with her legs and she sinks to the floor. With a thud she is on her knees, ready for a prayer, but her voice does not yet come to her.

Next are her lungs, filling with air, bigger and bigger until her breath shudders. At first a sigh, then a sob, followed by a second one. Tears spill over the brim of her eyes and fall to the ground as she shakes without control. Faintly, she can make out noise from the outside world. Has it begun to rain outside as well? Or is it just her, raining by herself, on the ground, knees and hands almost ready for a prayer to save herself?

The last thing to return to her is her voice.

“Oh God,” she cries, all by herself, not praying, but cradling herself, “Oh God, he left, he really left.”

She lets her head sink onto the wooden floor, her body rushing forward and spilling over the floor in one single, fluid wave. As she holds herself together, holding herself to not spill over, she does not pray to anyone.

She lets the blue take her.

* * *

One, two, three, four, five, six – with a single, solid punch he manages to push the bag as far away from him as possible. In those movies the super heroes always manage to punch these sandbags down and into a wall, but that is not reality. Or maybe he just isn’t a hero.

It’s been three days since he broke up with Sarada and he is still miserable because of it. Not that he expects this to change very soon, but the constant heartache is enough to make him want to punch something other than a bag.

“Your aim is getting sloppy, Boruto. Are you thinking about Sarada again?” The tone in Mitsuki’s voice is not mean or cruel. It is matter-of-fact, no feelings attached. Still, Boruto wants to punch him for even saying her name. It’s hard enough to think about her, worse if he has to talk about her. Mitsuki had been the one to find him crying in his room, alone and miserable. Mitsuki didn’t ask any questions besides the bare minimum and just made Boruto watch a movie with him. Boruto was glad for the distraction, but it didn’t help.

He is already terrified of the beginning of the next semester. How will he deal with Sarada looking at him from now? Will she look at him at all? The thought is unbearable, too painful to even think about and so he pushes the thought out of his head with every punch he takes at the bag.

He and Mitsuki train for another 10 minutes before another figure enters the gym behind him and he can immediately tell who it is, just by the figure and vague hair. Chocho is making her way across the floor, right to him.

As if he doesn’t feel bad enough already.

“Boruto!”

Before turning to her he wipes the sweat from his forehead and takes a sip of water, better to brace himself on the inside for what is about to come. He doesn’t look at Chocho, but she doesn’t need any cues to start talking to him.

“I can’t believe you would do this, I just cannot. I thought you were going to be good for her, but really, you’re just one big disappointment! I should have never encouraged her to go out with you! I should have tried to get her to date anyone but you!” she yells, while a few other people stare them down from across the room.

“Chocho, can you please lower your voice?” Boruto bites back. Talking about Sarada makes his heart ache and he doesn’t want to break down in the middle of the gym.

“NO! I CANNOT!”

Her voice is loud enough to create an echo and Mitsuki comes around and places a hand on her shoulder with a smile. “How about we calm down and you talk to Boruto in a lower voice – people generally tend to listen more when they do not get yelled at.” For a moment, Chocho looks like she is going to murder Mitsuki, but then she just turns around, exhales in the most dramatic way and looks at Boruto again.

“You really broke her heart,” she begins to explain, “do you know that? That was so incredibly cruel of you, I can’t believe it. I thought you were better than this.”

“I don’t think I broke her heart,” he retorts. “She looked surprised when I left but otherwise she looked alright. She didn’t even ask me to stay or anything, you know?”

“Because she was in shock! She told me everything, about the nice evening she had planned for you two, the food, everything!” Chocho gestures with her arms. “And you just dumped her! What kind of behavior was that? I thought you’re in love with her?”

Heat lights up in his chest and the pain it creates is like white fire on bare skin. “Of course I love her, you know I do, everyone knows I do because I am a big blond idiot.” Boruto bites on his molars to cause himself from saying other, more personal things, things that are none of Chocho’s or Mitsuki’s business.

“The question was if she was in love with me. Yes, she might have liked going out with me but she could have still dumped me.” _And I wouldn’t have been able to bear getting dumped by her_ , he thinks. _I would have never recovered_.

“You didn’t _know_ if she was in love with you too?” Chocho voice drops to an angry whisper. “Whoa, you’re really dumb. I expected more of you.”

“Well, yeah, and what did you expect of me?” he replies with biting sarcasm.

“I expected you to notice that she prepared an entire date night with you. I know that she tried several times to initiate sex with you – and you _refused_.” She sounds like she is explaining the obvious.

“She wanted to go all the way with you and you were the one that didn’t go along. Are you shy? Or why are you behaving like this?”

“That is so none of your business.”

“I know it’s not! But what I know for a fact is that Sarada is at home, bawling her eyes out and she was so devastated she called me to come take care of her even though I was on a break from school with my parents.”

 _She’s crying_ , fuck, he hates it when she cries. Sarada doesn’t cry a lot, she bears most hurdles in life with a stoic attitude, but it has happened before that he witnessed her breaking down and cry. He’s hated people crying since he was a boy and old enough to become protective of his little sister. As a big brother he’d naturally taken on the role of a protector, but Himawari would sometimes cry nonetheless. Somehow, Sarada crying is different and at the same time worse.

 _Because I make her unhappy_ , he tells himself in silence.

“Fuck, I mean, I didn’t want to disappoint her with that cancelled date, I really didn’t mean to, it’s just…I just can’t go there with her. All the way. She’s not really my girlfriend, I just can’t.”

Opening himself up only to be dumped in the end isn’t in his plans, he wouldn’t recover. So better to get this over with sooner than later.

“She’s not disappointed about the date, she is disappointed you dumped her!”

“Huh?” The world suddenly spins around him and he has to take a step back. What Chocho just said doesn’t make sense to him. On a certain level he understood what she said, word by word, but he cannot make out the actual meaning.

Why would Sarada be disappointed – unless she had planned to continue dating him of course. But would she really do that?

“How do you know this,” he asks her. “How can you be sure?”

“Because I have known my best friend for most of her life.”

He stands there, unmoving, for many heartbeats and then, just like that, he takes off at a dead run, Mitsuki calling after him, “Is our training session cancelled?”

“It better be,” Chocho tells him.

Yeah, he’s got something else to do right now, he has to get his girl back.

The drive over to her place is painfully long, in spite of him driving well over the tempo limit. If he gets caught by the police, his driver’s license is done for and his father is going to take away his car too. Plus, whatever fee he’d receive would bite him in the ass as well. He’d like to call her while driving to make sure she doesn’t leave the house, but he’s not quite that lax about breaking the driving laws.

He turns into her street still sweaty from his workout, but now with a fierce determination instead of dreadful anxiety fueling him. He wastes no time checking his appearance, it’s useless now at any rate. He’s sweaty, still in gym clothes and he hasn’t shaved this morning so his chin is covered in blond stubble.

At first he thinks that she may really not be home, but then his ears pick up on her light steps behind the door and he starts to grin as she opens the door for him.

“Hey…” he begins, but cannot finish his sentence. Her face is blotchy and she isn’t wearing her glasses. Her eyes are red enough to let him know that yes Chocho didn’t lie. Sarada has been crying.  
The guilt takes physical form inside his guts with painful stabs.

“Hey.” Her face is somber, not smiling or friendly. She’s really hurt.

“I came back.”

“Yeah,” she whispers, “I can see.”

He scratches his chin before leaning in. “Can I come in? It’s easier to explain with privacy, you know?”  
She doesn’t reply and just lets him slip past her into the hall.

“I’ve come back because Chocho talked to me just about 25 minutes ago. She was hella mad at me.”

“Uh, yeah, that’s typically Chocho.”

“And what she told me really got me thinking and, yeah,” he says, cheeks red, scratching his whiskers again. His prior fierce attitude vanishes with each passing second. He sighs, “Anyway, I want to apologize to you. I owe you an apology for dumping you and I was wondering if you’d hear me out.”

Sarada simply shrugs with a quick motion; he takes this as a yes.

“I know I am stupid, sometimes at the very least. And when you and I got a thing, I was so happy, but the more we went out, I don’t know, the more attached I became. And with each passing date I thought about the end of our deal. I assumed you would dump me.

“And you see, I’m also a coward, often enough at least. So I decided to dump you before you could do it to me. But really, I didn’t want to dump you, I wanted to continue what we had!” He uses his hands to gesture wildly and hopefully make her understand at least a tiny bit of what he wants to express.

“And I guess, what I want to say is, what I _need_ to say is, that I am really in fucking love with you. Have been for a while. Dumping you out of fear was dumb and I wish I hadn’t done it.”

He looks into her eyes, eager to receive an answer but she keeps looking at his hands. Sarada is motionless and white, even soundless.

_Please say something, please just say something._

But she doesn’t speak, instead she wraps two arms around herself and begins to cry again.

“Oh, no, please don’t cry.” Without hesitation he engulfs her with his arms, pulling her against his chest in a gentle embrace. “Did I do something wrong again?” She shakes her head and sniffs, then buries her face in his chest.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong now. I’m so glad you’ve come back to talk to me,” she whispers, pressing her nose against the fabric of his shirt and inhaling. “These past three days were awful. I don’t want you to leave again.”

Boruto chuckles and kisses the top of her head. “I don’t plan on leaving you again.” Not so soon if he can manage it.

“You’re sweaty though,” she mumbles and they laugh in union and Boruto squeezes her even tighter. “Yeah, I worked out before I got here.”

“Oh yeah? Well then you need to take a shower.”

They both look at each other and this time Boruto doesn’t pull away. Instead he dives deep and kisses her, first softly, then with more depth until they both forget about the past awful days.

“Also,” Sarada begins to tell him as they head towards the bathroom, “in case you haven’t noticed yet. I want to take a shower with you because I want you whole. All of you, entirely. Because I also love you.”

He smiles and pulls her closer again, for one, two kisses, because after only one month, this is all he ever wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I finished a fanfic. I really enjoy that feeling! See you all with another fic!


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